


take what the devil offers

by dissociativeclifford



Series: young dumb broke high school kids [2]
Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Drabble, Drinking, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One-Sided Relationship, Pining, Sad, but mostly platonic - Freeform, kenny likes stan i think, stenny if you squint, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 22:56:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13727766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dissociativeclifford/pseuds/dissociativeclifford
Summary: stan is drunk and sad; kenny is a good friend





	take what the devil offers

**Author's Note:**

> based off of a drunken meltdown i had last night. which explains the extreme overuse of the words "fuck," "ass," and "bitch." moral of the story is: vodka and red bull may taste good, but it fucks with your head

sadboi: ken  
sadboi: im durnk  
sadboi: kennsy water you doing

stonerkid: i’m out at starks pond  
stonerkid: want me to come over

sadboi: yesss  
sadboi: i gottat give you a hug  
sadboi: klhyle is so pretty

stonerkid: 5min

“Stan?”

“Kenny!” Stan says sleepily, a wide grin on his face as the blonde opens the door to his room. “Kenny McCormick I am glad you’re here,” he says loudly and laughs at himself.

“Dude, how fucking much did you have to drink? Are you drinking straight vodka? That’s nasty, man,” Kenny says, wrinkling his nose at the bottle of Absolut Stan has clutched between his dry hands.

“Fuckin, pussy ass bitch, can’t even drink straight vodka dumbass Kenny,” Stan mumbles to himself, pressing the neck of the bottle against his lips and taking a swig.

“That’s… Jesus, Stan. I love drinking as much as the next guy but that’s fucking disgusting.”

“Not my fault you like that fucking dumbshit Lagunitas Whole Foods ass shit, fuckin stealing nasty ass beer,” Stan says and starts giggling to himself. He shoves the large bottle onto his windowsill and leans onto Kenny, nuzzling into the warmth of his neck. “Y’smell like weed Ken. And your house. Smells good.”

“My house just smells like weed. Or weed just smells like my house,” Kenny chuckles softly, wrapping his arm around Stan’s shoulders. “What’s up, dude?” he asks, a hint of sorrow in his voice cause he knows Stan only drinks himself into depression.

“Nothins up just missed my best friendddd,” Stan giggles again, sighing against Kenny’s neck. Kenny smiles fondly, pressing his nose into Stan’s oily hair. “Wash your fucking hair, Marsh.”

“You wash your hair,” Stan mumbles, giggling. “Mm… Kyle has pretty hair… fuckass ginger bitch.”

Kenny sighs. “You alright?” He knows Stan’s reaching his breaking point- being both a sad drunk and a cuddly drunk wasn’t a good mix.

“Fuckin Kyle, man, fuckin Jew ass bitch,” Stan mumbles, or more accurately whimpers, and Kenny sighs again. “Dipshit Kyle…”

“Stan, we’ve been over this,” Kenny frowns. He’s not used to being sober while Stan’s drunk. Either they’re both sober, both drunk, or both high. Or one drunk and the other high. Or both crossfaded. Same difference. “If Kyle’s just doing all this to fuck with you then he’s an asswipe. You can talk to him about it, or you can keep wallowing in your own sadness.”

Stan lets out a cry at that, and Kenny feels hot tears seep through his shirt. “He doesn’t love me like I love him! It’s not fair!” Stan says, trailing off into a whimper and clinging onto Kenny’s arm. “Fuckin Kyle. Fuckin kiss David if he fuckin asked, fuckin Spanish ass David ass shit…” He rolls off of Kenny, grabbing at the bottle of Absolut again and taking a swig, much to Kenny’s disdain.

Kenny tries to grab the bottle out of Stan’s grip. He doesn’t know how much Stan’s had to drink, and doubts Stan knows either, but the bottle’s almost empty and Kenny really doesn’t want to have to take his friend to the hospital to get his stomach pumped. Stan lets out another sob and clutches the bottle to his chest. “Fuck you Kenny! Supposed to get me, supposed to get me but you’re just tryna take away my drinks like fuckin Kyle!” 

“Hey, I don’t wanna take it from you, I just want some. You’ve had almost all of it and I want some too, it’s not very fair. Can I finish it off?” Kenny asks gently, trying to reason with Stan. 

The thought of drinking straight vodka honestly disgusts him, but so does the thought of letting Stan have any more. As much as Kenny loves drinking, he’s much more of a beer and cocktails kinda guy, to some people’s surprise. Stan sniffles and stares down the neck of the bottle for a minute, reluctantly handing it over to Kenny. Kenny wrinkles his nose and braces himself for the burn sliding down his throat as he downs the rest of the bottle, which is probably only two shots worth at most.

“Jesus Stan, how in fuck do you do that shit?” Kenny almost yells, coughing and gagging a little.

Stan starts giggling. Giggling and crying. “Pussy.”

Kenny catches his breath and runs a hand through his hair. He pushes the empty vodka bottle onto the ground, still disgusted by the taste in his mouth. “Jesus… Okay, Stan, okay let’s calm down.”

“ ‘M calm,” Stan sniffles and stares at Kenny, tears building up at the edge of his eyes.

“Stay,” Kenny says sternly, standing up and walking to the other side of the room to get the bottle of water and aspirin he has stored in his go-bag. He brings it back to the bed and opens up the plastic bottle, taking a large swig of water and sighing in relief. “Will you take some aspirin for me?”

Stan furrows his eyebrows and the tears slip out the edge of his eyes. “Fuckin! I told you not to be a fuckin Kyle ass bitch trying to baby me!” he yells, and Kenny’s afraid he’ll wake up the rest of the house.

“No no no Stan, I’m not gonna be like Kyle, I promise,” Kenny says gently, even though he has no clue what Stan’s idea of ‘being like Kyle’ was. “I am going to have some water and two aspirin. You don’t have to have any, but I’m going to, and you can if you want to.” He downs the two aspirin, which he knows he won’t need in the morning, but Stan will, and that’s the whole point. He sets the water and aspirin on Stan’s bedside table and, slowly, Stan reluctantly takes some.

After downing the aspirin, Stan rolls over and curls up in his bed, on top of the blankets. He’s still crying, and mumbling things to himself. Kenny shifts to sit by him, putting one hand on his shoulder.

“Fuckin, David ass bitch, gonna kill that fuckin asshole, fuckin Kyle…”

“Kyle doesn’t like David like that, dude, we’ve been over this,” Kenny sighs, and winces when Stan lets out a choking sob and hugs a pillow to his chest.

“Everybody likes David! Everybody does! And he’s cool and he can cook and he has an accent and Kyle likes him better than me!” Stan cries, his voice muffled by the pillow he’s sobbing into.

Sighing, Kenny lies down and pulls the pillow out of Stan’s shaking hands, pulling the taller boy to his chest. He seemed so small, so fragile. “I think you’re much cooler than David,” he says, gently petting Stan’s hair.

Lying in silence for a few minutes, Stan’s breathing begins to even out, and he hiccups sadly into Kenny’s chest. Kenny feels like crying himself. He hates seeing Stan so broken down like this. Stan seems so fragile in the moment, like any wrong move could shatter him into pieces, and Kenny almost pulls Stan on top of his chest like he does for Karen when she’s sad, but decides that’s too far. So Kenny holds Stan and pets his hair until he falls asleep, which doesn’t take long. 

“Goodnight, Stan. It’s all gonna be okay.”


End file.
